Ephemeral

౨ৎ WRITING GETS REMARKABLY BETTER AFTER CHAPTER SEVEN!

Waking up to the consistent beeping of my alarm bouncing off the walls of my small 'room,' I jolted up, forgetting about the searing pain in my ribs and back. I uncontrollably winced as my arms reached over to shut off my alarm before it woke up sir or ma'am.

The freezing cold temperature of the attic that had acted as my bedroom made me shiver. Throwing off the thin blanket intended to shield my body from the cold space, I managed to stand up off my mattress that was lying on the floor. Excruciating pain fired from every nerve, unrelenting and unforgiving. 

I hobbled in the dark towards my dresser and grabbed clothes for the day. It was only late September, but in Chicago, it got cold even before Halloween. I collected a long-sleeved black henley style shirt with the restaurant logo 'Tony's Pizza' on it, black jeans, undergarments, and a thin gray cotton zip-up jacket.

Every day I had to walk to work and school. So the jacket, while light weight, still helped keep me warm. I dry swallowed two painkillers I kept in the bottom drawer of my dresser. They were technically prescribed to ma'am, but with how many she had, the pills wouldn't be noticed as missing.

I carefully climbed down the ladder leading to the second story of the house. My back and ribs ached as I moved down each step, my attention dedicated to trying not to fall while carrying my clothes in one hand.

Folding the ladder up into the ceiling, I silently tip-toed across the dark, worn-down wooden floors of the hallway. Each step I took seemed to make the floorboards creak and whine underneath my feet.

I sucked in a breath as I opened the squeaky door into the bathroom. Setting my clothes down onto the sink, I stripped away my scraggly looking pajamas.

Looking into the mirror, I was ashamed of what I saw. A sickly looking girl was staring back at me.

My pale, pasty white skin, was painted in black and blue by the bruises decorating my flesh. My ribs, hips, shoulders, and spine were easily visible as they jutted out of my skin. Red angry cuts were raised and burning. 

Escaping my thoughts, I went to turn on the shower and climbed in. They didn't allow me to use hot water, so freezing cold droplets battered down on me, effectively wiping away any sleep left inside my body.

The cuts on my back from sir's belt stung and burned, my ribs however, were soothed by the cool water. Quickly washing my body and ignoring the searing pain when I scrubbed, I hopped out of the shower and dried off.

Rushing to put my clothes on, I slowed down due to the immense pressure and pain I felt. Biting back the tears that were stinging the corners of my eyes, I brushed through my long, thick, and wavy white hair. The only time I could really brush it without it getting frizzy was when it was wet. 

Whenever I brushed it dry, I looked like a poorly groomed poodle that some old lady kept in her wrinkled purse. 

One thing about being albino was that every part of me was white. I had white hair, skin, and eyebrows. My eyes were a light and pale bluish purple, hidden under my white feathery lashes. But right under those eyes were bags that made me look like I hadn't slept well in years, which was the sad truth.

Sliding out of the bathroom, I snuck downstairs to make sir and ma'am their breakfast. They hated having the same thing for their meals, but we were running out of groceries. Yesterday, I made them pancakes and bacon, but all they had left in the fridge today was four eggs and a container of cream cheese. 

They'll have bagels tomorrow. 

I anxiously fried all four eggs, making a mental note to purchase groceries on my way home from work tomorrow. I added some salt and pepper to the eggs as I fried them. Popping four pieces of bread into the toaster, I poured orange juice into 2 cups and set them on the table.